New England towns... New England towns...
Holding on for dear life in these old New England towns

Now I'm a front yard full of Plymouths peeling in the sun
And the folks here all might drive away if just one of them cars would run
And I am a common rock dove cooing on your roof
Folks say I'm a rat with wings and they don't lack for proof

And I am a stray cat turning wild and I know when to run
And before those lowlifes moved away I sure used to have some fun
And I'm an old abandoned rail line but they left my black oak ties
And I'm a harness factory with a hundred black eyes

New England towns... New England towns...
Holding on for dear life in these old New England towns

And I am some off-shore island lying in the fog
Scallopers ain't doin' nothin' and I'm sleepin' like a log
And I'm some nameless little river movin' green and slow
Filter tips and Miller cans where the high school boys go

Now I'm the crooked streets and alleys laid out by a drunk
And I'm the windows in the dress shops and sheds all full of junk
And the snow gets down your collar hides everything it can
Makes this grubby beat-up town look okay again

New England towns... New England towns...
Holding on for dear life in these old New England towns
Holding on for dear life in these old New England